Page 36 of The Alpha's Arranged Bride

Gone for a few hours only. Keep them safe when I’m not there briefly.

Could one still think about revenge, harbor it in the gut like an urge under so much pressure it had hardened like diamond, and yearn for that day despite the fact that he’d somehow started to insert himself into a future where he stayed? And learned. Gentled. Where he was part of a family. Where he maybe even loved.

Prairie Rose set the sketchbook back on the desk and came to him. “Thank you,” she whispered to Tadpole, tears misting her eyes. “Thank you for trying to give us this. Both of us, and our wolves.”

Tadpole scratched at the back of his neck, his face growing at least three shades redder. “Don’t thank me yet. Maybe I only make pretty drawings and nice paint jobs.”

Her hand slid from his back and curled around his waist. She hesitated, as if he would brush her away or step out of reach. He didn’t. He stayed. She leaned into him. “I very much doubt that, but at the very least, thank you for seeing us and for trying.”

Agnar had faced the worst of enemies, stared down death more times than he could count. He’d lost and he’d been taken, he’d taken, and he’d killed in turn. There was a time when he’d told himself he was afraid of nothing and that nothing could ever hurt him. A time before he’d understood the terror of having children to love and care for and protect.

The terror of hope, and fuck if this wasn’t all a brand-new multifaceted aspect of that very thing.

Chapter 15

Prairie Rose

“In the interest of this Alexander character being a massive cunt, I feel like the least I could do is go down to Arizona with a few of the guys from the garage and finish what I started that day I killed those wolves who took Lila from me.”

“Rome!” Prairie Rose grabbed her brother’s arm and dragged him further into the kitchen.

After they’d eaten together, which was about as awkward as she anticipated with Rome and Agnar at opposite ends of the table, Agnar had to leave to go to Tadpole’s for a few hours. As soon as he was gone, the boys spotted Rome’s chessboard in the living room and asked if they could play. In the interest of not leaving Waverly out, they were now trying to teach her. Blake was patient, but Levi had little time for four-year-old girls who were sweet and sensitive and had never been trained in the finer points of physical combat, or butt kicking as he liked to call it.

The dishes from dinner were still waiting on the counter and by the sink. Instead of rinsing them and filling the dishwasher, she started to fill up one side of the double sink. She threw a dish towel at her brother, who stared at her with his cold dark eyes burning. Staring at Rome too long was like going out in frigid weather with no shoes on, and not as a wolf either.

“The boys might hear you. They might be young, but they tend to overhear and understand everything. I’m as honest with them as I can be.” The sound of the water splashing into the sink muffled their conversation somewhat. “You had better not be serious. Not with Waverly to care for now. What would happen to her if something happened to you?”

“She’d go to stay with Kieran and Zora. I have them listed as next of kin.” He stared at her, unblinking, the striped, white-and-red towel hanging from his hands. “She’d probably be better off there.”

“Don’t say that,” she warned him. “Arizona isn’t your fight. I’ve been trying to convince Agnar that it’s not his either.”

“He reminds me a lot of me.”

“He’s nothing like you.”Rome didn’t flinch, but she knew that he’d misunderstood. “I meant that in a—not in a bad way. Not the way you’d think.”

She dumped cups and plates in and started scrubbing away at them with the ratty dishcloth. She recognized it as the pattern her mom was so good at making. Had Kieran or Briar May brought him this? She could still go home. What was it like for Rome here, knowing that he couldn’t, because his love had driven him to do something terrible?

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. I wouldn’t want any of my sisters mated to someone like me. But he is a murderer and you’re sweet and innocent. What was Kieran thinking, bartering you for peace?”

“Rome,” she groaned. “It wasn’t like that. And Agnar isn’t a murderer.”

“He is. But, sister mine, you can love him if you choose. That’s your business. For my part, I did start all of this by killing Castor’s brother. He came looking for vengeance and instead ended up knocking up our little sister.” She bent over the sink, groaning. “Oh. Oh no. Not you too.”

“No!” She turned and grimaced at her brother. “Not me too.”

“I see. So you haven’t actually become mates, then.”

She had to hide her red face. It wasn’t for lack of desire on her part. It was inexplicable to her why she wanted Agnar so much. She just knew that she did, from the first second she’d met him on that halfway journey before their official mating.

“He is like me in one respect. Men like him aren’t built for loving. We’re not equipped to be tender. He’s not the mate you used to dream about. You and Briar May, always planning your human-style weddings. Cutting out those clippings from magazines that mom would buy when she’d go thrifting or to garage sales. She was always bringing back weird things, but you both loved those so much.”

“Briar May is happy. Castor might not be the white knight she wanted, but she’s okay with that. She loves him very much and he loves her no less, in his own way.”

“Did you know, Prairie Rose, that when you’re thinking about Agnar, you get this look on your face?”

“No, I don’t.” She scrubbed a few cups, rinsed them, and set them in the other sink.

Rome smirked at her. “Yes, you do. You look like he’s the moon and all the damn stars in the sky. The guy is the night. He’s dangerous. You’re working very hard to make life bearable for him, but are you sure it’s a life he even wants?”

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